


New York, New York By Way Of Lima, Ohio

by MissChriss



Category: Glee
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-14
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 02:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/592495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissChriss/pseuds/MissChriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow, Airports and a sexy stranger. That's Kurt Hummel's Christmas this year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New York, New York By Way Of Lima, Ohio

The thin tip of his boot tapped against the shiny linoleum. The creak of Italian leather and each frustrated smack echoed wildly through the almost deserted terminal. Kurt had been standing in front of the departures board for almost an hour. Watching as every single flight seemed to succumb to the thick blanket of snow that was painting Chicago white.

Almost everyone else had booked rooms at the first hint of trouble but Kurt Hummel was a man that lived in optimism even when it seemed like life was determined to give him every reason to quit. He almost wished he was the kind of guy that would step on another person's neck to get ahead but his father had raised him to be a gentleman, which meant that when the completely inept counter attendant had informed him that they had overbooked the flight and that one of the traveling glee club would have to stay behind, Kurt naturally volunteered.

All the kids were excited for Christmas and his female counterpart had a fiance waiting for her. She had spent the entire flight out to Nationals regaling him with tales of what they had planned for their first Christmas together. She had spent the entire flight from Lima waxing poetic about all the wonderfully romantic things they had planned. They were going to spend the night drinking warm cocoa and kissing under the starry sky during the midnight sleigh ride. He could see it all now. Jeff would goad Amber into feeding the horses a carrot. He could practically hear the breathy little giggle that would burst forth when the rough tongue would skate across her palm. They would spend their first Christmas together making love by the fire and planning the next fifty. How could Kurt be the one that stood in the way of that, especially when all that waited for him was a solo dinner and the night spent wandering around the house his parents had left him? No one was going to be there with eggnog and a gift, and so he would spend his Christmas Eve dozing in the terminal and lulling himself into sleep with visions of the epic Nationals win that he'd just helped pull off.

He'd spent his last year of high school and his first two years of college trying to save but ultimately saying goodbye to his father. By the time his father had taken his last breath, Kurt had been more than halfway through a teaching degree that he hadn't even realized he was trying to get. For a long time, he'd been living his life as someone who never sang. Becoming the director of New Directions seemed like the best thing for him to do at the time.

Although an unexpected future in the end, he was really happy being a teacher. He got to spend hours debating and discussing people living fabulous, extraordinary lives. But sitting in the grand New York hall, with its cathedral ceilings and acoustics that would make anyone want to burst into song, he couldn't help but wonder if he was the kind of person that should be living those fabulous lives. He wondered what would have happened if he'd followed his heart and gone out west.

The Lima Times had run a piece a few years ago about someone from Lima making it in the big city, a kid whose mother had had the good sense to get out of Lima before her son turned five. She'd seemed to know that Lima would only imprint itself on her baby's skin and weigh him down to the point of complete insecurity. And yet, as much as it hurts to admit, Kurt is probably exactly where he needed to be and that article just confirmed it. Towns like his only ever get one of those kind of success stories.

He let himself drift. The back of his head pressed firmly against cool glass as he slouched unattractively in a hard-backed plastic chair. The wind whistling outside reminded him of high F's and having your whole life ahead of you.

**

Noah Puckerman had spent the last two hours fuming and living vivid fantasies of how he was going to fire his assistant. Frankly, he's thinking fire ants need to play an integral part. They certainly would add a certain je ne sais quoi and he had always been about those added little touches that really pushed things over the edge. He had specifically told her that he wanted a direct flight – Ohio to New York-- and he knew for a fact that Southwest Airlines had that flight, several times a day. But no, she puts him on Jet Blue with two different connections and a forty-five minute layover in Chicago. A lot can happen in forty-five minutes, up to and including a metric fuck-ton of snow being dumped on the sleepy city.

He had just left the accommodations desk and he felt the fight drain out of him. The only thing his promises of exorbitant amounts of money had gotten him was his name on the top of a standby list for a hotel room. The long lines of people shuffling towards the airport hotel made jealousy burn through his veins. After having to step foot in Lima again, all he wanted was a hot shower, a stiff drink and the scratchy well-worn sheets of a Holiday Inn. Surveying the lobby, he realized he was probably only getting one of those things tonight, if he was lucky. He sighed in resignation, hefting his bag over his shoulder as he headed for the bar at the end of the terminal.

He was about twenty feet from the lounge when he saw him for the first time: all long legs, splayed akimbo, opened in such a way that would have been crude, had it been done on purpose. The man's one hand resting against his delicate collarbone and the other was tucked into the waistband of his dark pants. Noah could see the slight, unconscious movement of a thumb across his hipbone. Wide shoulders led to a long expanse of his pale white neck. His head was tilted back against the glass window behind him and had him presenting all that soft skin to Noah's hungry eyes. Noah dug his top teeth into the soft flesh of his own bottom lip to fight the urge to leave his mark along that jaw line. His lips were parted slightly as he drinks the filtered air. The man's soft snores made Noah realize how tired he was. His shoulders wanted to collapse under the weight of the sort of exhaustion that burrows under your skin and rubs against your bones.

He left one space between the sleeping man and the chair he chose. The hard plastic feels like heaven to his stiff body, and his eyelids droop as the warm air flows from the vent above them. He is almost ready to surrender to the heavy pull of sleep but he found that he couldn't resist taking one last look at the man beside him. He turned his head and saw the pale, ivory profile of his new sleeping beauty, watching as dark eyelashes fluttered against his sleep-flushed cheeks and found himself wondering two things. He found himself wondering about the kind of dreams dance behind those gently-fluttering lashes, and what color the man's eyes were.

He was hit with the sudden desire to know if they were the kind of warm, welcoming brown that would soften even further when someone said something sweet, or if they were the kind of blue that could stop you dead if they were icy and make you want to drown in them if they turned stormy with lust. Noah felt his own eyelashes as the brushed the dark circles under his eyes. He couldn't be entirely sure why but he hoped for stormy blue.

He stayed in that horrible place between half awake and not quite asleep until he felt warm, questing fingers find his own. As he automatically squeezed onto the unfamiliar hand, his sleep-addled brain reminded him that it was the first time in three months anyone had touched him without wanting anything more.

He slept better than he had in a long time, floating in warmth and the soft sounds of falling snow mixing with steady breathing.

**

Kurt felt sticky. The heat has swarmed him as he slept, and it left him feeling like he needed a shower. His jaw creaked as he straightened his neck and he got in an intense fight with his eyelids. In the end they both kind of won: Kurt had to settled for a half-lidded glance to his side. He saw the statuesque man from before beside him. He was all dark skin and long limbs. Kurt ran his tongue across his lip as he slowly lost the fight with his drooping eyelids. This time his body curled up into a ball, turning to face the man made of long line silhouettes and a rumpled Hugo Boss suit.

His arm was loosely hanging over the edge of his chair, haphazardly falling inches away from Kurt. His hand moved towards the warmth to curl around thick fingers. The jolt he felt when their skin touched wasn't enough to force his eyes open but it did send his eyes rolling up into his skull before he surrenders to sleep again. On the way to REM sleep, Kurt realized that this was the first time he'd felt someone else's skin against his own since he'd graduated college. The ghost of his grandmother's fingers spent years living on his skin because no one had ever tried to write their history in her place. Two year is along time to live without touch. He dreamt of holding hands and mysterious strangers.

When he woke up for real, Kurt could feel eyes on him. They ran down his cheek like fingers. He smiled softly as he blinked his eyes open, and that's when he saw the deepest brown eyes he's ever seen. They held each others' gaze until a clatter of plates from inside the lounge startled them both. Kurt noticed that their fingers are locked together. He wrenched his hand away as if the fingers were burning his skin. When the cool air rolls across the spot the other man touched, Kurt felt like they had. He feels his face flush in embarrassment as he stutters.

 

“Oh my god!... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to..to...to.. accost you like that. Please. Fuck...I'm so sorry.” Kurt's hands failed wildly, grasping the lapels of his pea-coat.

The man just gives him a sideways grin before arching his back towards the ceiling in a stretch. His back cracked in protest from being forced to sleep on the hard plastic. As the last pop echoed in the terminal, the man let out a loud moan of pleasure that had Kurt's cheeks blushing for a completely different reason.

“Dude, chill. Waking up next to beautiful boys doesn't happen to me very often.” Noah watched as Kurt ducked his head in embarrassment and Puck decided he better give the guy a break. “But if you really think you need to make it up to me, you can buy me drink. Name's Noah by the way.” The sideways grin turns into a shy head tilt as Noah extends his hand.

“Kurt....my name's Kurt.” He chuckles nervously to himself as he slides his hand into Noah's.

They share a nod and Noah gestured to Kurt to follow him towards the lounge. Walking twenty feet seemed to take an eternity and all Kurt could think about was that this magnificent man just called him beautiful. Well that and how well said magnificent man filled out a suit. Cause damn.

**

The bar itself is the kind of place Kurt thought only existed in movies. It's completely empty except of the bartender who seemed like she'd rather be anywhere else. Kurt sent Noah to find a table and headed towards the bartender. Her head never left its perch, nestled in the palm of her hand. She gave him a sideways look, huffing as she heaved herself out of her chair to make two vodka and 7ups. While he was waiting his eyes caught the overhead mirror. His breath got stuck in his throat as he saw that Noah was watching him from the booth, eyes dark with unconcealed lust. Kurt blushed and pressed his cheek to his shoulder. The loud noise of the bartender slamming their drinks down in front of him didn't stop the soft smile from spreading across his face.

From his spot in the booth, Noah realized a few things. Firstly, he was correct in his assumption that Kurt was gay. Secondly, every stitch of clothing was designer: not a inch of it was knockoff. Noah was grateful for that. Sure every piece was last season but he could appreciate the fact Kurt was wearing Balenciaga.

Thirdly, he was absolutely positive that he'd never seen anyone as beautiful as Kurt. He was all long legs and porcelain skin. Noah saw the way the blush painted the man's cheek and fire rushed through his veins as he wondered how far down that blush went. Kurt's hips swing in a way that is unintentionally sexy as he headed back towards Puck, and they both gasp when their fingers brushed as Kurt hands him his drink. Kurt keeps his eyes on the table as he breaks the heated tension that fills the air between them.

“So, where are you headed?” Kurt asked, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“New York.”

Kurt's eyes light up as he remembers how amazing it was to be able to say that.

“Are you coming or going?”

“Headed home actually. Three days in Ohio is enough to make me miss everything. Even those trains that reek of piss.” Noah giggled a bit to himself because he hadn't realized how anxious he actually was to get home.

“At least you're headed in the right direction. I'm headed back to Ohio. Do you have family in Columbus?” Noah was taken aback; the guy actually seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say.

“Columbus? Fuck, I wish. I was stuck visiting my sister in the most backwards ass place I've been since I finished a road trip through the Appalachians. Never thought I'd see the day when I'd be thankful my ma moved me to Hoboken. But at least it's not Lima.”

Kurt's gasp shocked Noah and his eyes snapped forward.

“Lima? You're coming back from Lima?”

“Yeah. Why?” Noah eyes him suspiciously.

“No, just that's where I'm headed. I'm an English teacher at William McKinley. Just, it's a small world I guess.” Kurt chuckles at his luck. The first cute guy to peak his interest in two years was a boy who couldn't stand Lima.

“Whoa, hold a sec. Are you Kurt Hummel?”

“Yes. How do you know that?” It was Kurt's turn to eye him suspiciously.

“No reason. I just get three phone calls a day from my sister Sarah about how dreamy Mr Hummel is.”, Noah raises the pitch of his voice to mimic what he's been listening to for the past six months of his life. He fanned his face and giggled to himself. ”Oh my god, Noah. You have no idea. Mr Hummel did the cutest thing today. Mr Hummel let me lead the class today. Mr Hummel wore the tightest pants I've ever seen. Mr Hummel asked me to stay after class. Too bad he's like you but with a capital G. Cause I'd tear that ass up. It would seem Mr Hummel that your reputation proceeds you.” Puck could feel his voice soften as he remembered the warm feeling he always got when his baby sister would talk about the famous Mr Hummel.

Kurt blushed as Noah talked and was struck silent by the smirking smile on Noah's face until something dawned on him.

“Wait, Sarah? Are you the Noah Puckerman? Like had CEO and founder of Pretty, Pretty Makeup?”

Noah nodded, smiling softly. 'That's okay, Kurt. You don't have to pretend you know who I am. I know that we're a strictly boutique brand.”

Noah watched as Kurt's lips disappeared into an angry grimace before he started to rummage through his carry-on bag. What he said was true: he never expected people to know about Pretty, Pretty. His company was in that gray area of affording him the ability to live a semi-lavish lifestyle while being far from a household name. His eyebrows pulled together in confusion as Kurt produced a small travel pouch out of his bag. He forced the zipper open and took out something, placing it on the table.

“Please. You actually think any self-respecting gay boy doesn't know about a makeup line that feature a Bea Arthur Blue mascara.”

They locked eyes, and they were silent until they both crumpled into uncontrollable laughter. By the time their laughter died down, Kurt found that he'd gravitated further into the booth and was practically pressed against the entirety of Noah's side. They spent the next few hours talking, having the kinds of conversations one can only have with a stranger, swimming in the kind of honesty that leaves your thighs shaking with emotion.

Kurt had just finished telling Noah about the first time he had sex with a guy, including every awkward, terrible, embarrassing moment of his first one night stand. His voice trailed off into something kind of melancholy until Noah caught his eye. Their chest heaved in unison as they tried to keep their emotions in check and the heat of the others' body sparked of their skin. They stayed locked in a stare. Their foreheads almost touching and their lips parted slightly. Kurt could feel Noah's breath skate against his cheek and was just about to lean in for a kiss when Noah's cell phone vibrated loudly on the table.

Kurt felt his heart drop into his stomach as he heard Noah's half of the conversation. The business-like tone caught Kurt off guard-- he'd never thought that the soft-spoken languid tone that Noah was using with him was something special. The way Noah was talking to him before made Kurt feel he was sharing something private with him, all of a sudden. His train of thought was cut off when Noah slapped his phone on the table and drummed his fingers along the wood.

“So...um... they found me a room.”, Noah paused and gave Kurt a confused look as the other man just nodded sadly,” Did you want to come up with me?” Noah cringed, bracing for rejection.

Kurt squeaked before nodding his head.

In the end, they only made it into the elevator before they attacked each other. The hard metal hand railing pressed marks into both of their backs, and they collided with every wall on the way up to the room. Kurt doesn't remember the fumbling for the door key or the awkward dance they both did as they hopped out of their clothes without unlocking their lips. All he knows is heat, wet and right. Noah falls asleep inside him and Kurt lets himself curl around someone he thinks he might already love, trying to forget about how one night stands in airport hotel rooms usually end... like every other person he'd ever slept with, he wouldn't get to take this one home.

**

Tears started to fall as he slipped into his clothes. Noah's dry come is still on his skin, but something kept him from washing it off. He knows the routine-- he'd only ever slept with four guys and every time was the same. They pick him up in a bar and take him back to their place, but they always want him out the door before the even condom came off. As far as Kurt knew, he'd already outstayed his welcome.

He can feel the cool metal of the door handle under his palm as he let himself turn back for one last look. His hand skimmed over Noah's cheek and his heart hurt at the prospect of never seeing him again. His fingertips lingered on Noah's chin.

He's about to turn away when thick fingers wrap around his wrist. “Kurt? Where are you going?” Noah's voice is slurred from sleep and confusion.

“I thought... I was just.... I didn't think you'd want me to stay.” Kurt whispered.

Noah didn't say anything as he pulled Kurt over him and under the blankets again. He tucked Kurt under his arm and promptly fell back asleep, missing the tears of relief that land on his chest, or how Kurt shook next to him.

They slept, but they didn't dream of sugar plums. They dreamt of home and warmth; what it feels like to not feel so alone anymore.

**

When they woke up the next day, the Christmas morning sun filtered through the cracks in the hotel curtains. They made love in the daylight and stared at each other as they basked in the afterglow.

“This is it, you know.” Kurt's whisper was sad and felt out of place in their room. “Now you go to New York and I'm headed back to Lima. You'll just be the fantastic stranger that I'll compare every single man to, the one they'll never measure up to. I'll just be the piece of ass you got when that blizzard hit that one year.”

Noah's eyes softened and he rested his hand on Kurt's cheek. His thumb grazed the corner of Kurt's lip.

“It's not gonna be like that. I won't let it.” Noah drew Kurt into a deep kiss before resting their foreheads together. ”Besides, I hear Ohio is beautiful this time of year.”

Kurt's breathy laugh fell onto Noah's skin as he buried his face into Noah's chest. Kurt broke into a fit of giggles as he pulled Noah into a deep kiss and they got lost underneath the sleep-warmed sheets.

Kurt made Noah think that maybe Ohio wasn't the worst place in the world, not if that smile lived there. And Noah... Noah made Kurt think that he might get to be one of those fabulous people living an adventurous life after all. And meeting the love of your life while you were trapped in an airport terminal made them both kinda believe in that thing their mothers used to talk about. Chicago, snow and Christmas Eve made them both believe in fate.

**


End file.
